


Just My Luck

by captainamergirl



Category: Saved By the Bell (TV)
Genre: F/M, Futuristic, Post The College Years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/captainamergirl
Summary: The gang's all here... Except they're not.





	Just My Luck

**Chapter 1**  
  
**_Present time ..._**  
  
Samuel "Screech" Powers stared at his old friend lying prostrate in the hospital bed and sighed. He had been asked to watch out for him in case he awakened but Screech was starting to wonder if that would ever happen. His friend was ghostly pale and looked as if all the life and verve had been sucked right of him when the heart attack came on so strong.  
  
Screech sighed and reached for his cell phone in his coat pocket, hoping he was not going to set off someone's respirator or something by making a few phone calls, but everyone needed to know. They needed to know what had happened to their old pal...  
  
XoXoXo  
**  
_15 Hours Earlier ..._**  
  
Zack Morris sighed as he lugged the last of his boxes into his new apartment and slammed the door shut as hard as he could, just to let everyone in this expensive, overpriced building know he was 1) not in the mood for company and 2) was still a strong man who could deal with anything that life threw at him. Even his wife sleeping with the much younger pool boy.  
_  
Ex-wife,_ Zack reminded himself as he wiped away the sweat from his brow and shoved the box into a corner amidst the twenty or so others. It was just his luck that the elevator would be out of whack on the day he was moving in. It was just his luck that the moving company had sent two big lugs that he had to send home after they broke two of his lamps and a box of fine china dishes. It was just his luck that he was now in his late thirties and single again with a huge mortgage his wife was protesting paying even though he had moved out. It was just his luck that he was now a soon-to-be divorced man. And he couldn't play the cool bachelor anymore. No, he had two pre-teen daughters now and they were a handful, each in their own way. Darci was a clothes' horse in the likes of Lisa Turtle, spoiled and haughty and entitled, and Andrea (or Drea) was a younger Zack. She played pranks on everyone, she talked back to her elders, and she generally made a nuisance of herself. Both girls did actually and yet, Zack loved them. He was a proud father in that way and wouldn't trade his now-tainted past with Kelly because it did bring him his two greatest pride and joys.  
  
He sighed and dropped down onto the sofa, immediately putting his feet up on the huge, Oakwood coffee table, one of the major possessions he had insisted on bringing from the house. Kelly had loved the coffee table and it had been a present from Zack to her on their third wedding anniversary, but he was just feeling spiteful like way.  
  
The door bell suddenly rang and he groaned inwardly, not moving from his spot on the sofa and hoping whoever it was would just go away. No such luck as he heard them call out, "Too-da-loo! Are you there? It's your next door neighbor! I've brought my special, welcome-to-the-neighborhood homemade truffles!"  
  
Zack sighed, intending to rip this lady's head off and stomp all over her truffles. He climbed to his feet and marched over to the door, practically ripping it off the hinges. "Do I have to hang a 'do not disturb' sign on my door?" He immediately barked.  
  
The little old woman of about eighty years of age looked immediately taken back and even more so, actually devastated. "So - sorry. I always bring my truffles to the new neighbors in the building."  
  
Zack growled, "Give them to someone else. I'm not interested, lady!"  
  
Just then he heard a hauntingly familiar voice chastise him. "Don't you dare talk to Ms. MacGillidy that way, you jerk!"  
  
He snapped his eyes to the familiar blonde standing in the hallway, shooting death rays at him with her piercing blue eyes. "Leslie Burke?" He immediately asked in astonishment.  
  
"Zack Morris?" She returned, studying him for a moment before finally pronouncing, "You look older but you're still the same rude and obnoxious old Zack I see."  
  
"Hey, who are you calling old?" Zack demanded.  
  
"I am," she challenged. Then she walked over to the now timid little woman and grasped her by the shoulders. "Come on, Ms. MacGillidy. You don't need this kind of abuse, least of all from this jerk off. I would be happy to have you over to my place for the afternoon."  
  
Zack fumed as he watched them walk away. He called after them then. "Leslie, enjoy those truffles yourself! Just know that a minute on the lips is a lifetime on the hips!"  
  
Leslie just glared at him and unlocked her door, slipping inside the apartment three doors down from Zack's with the old lady.  
  
"Good riddance," he said and walked back into his own apartment, slamming the door shut after him.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
"Ms. Spano, there is a man outside who insists on seeing you now."  
  
Jessie looked up from the pile of briefs and files on her desk and raised an eyebrow. "Who is he, Clarice?" She asked her assistant and then waved her hand, thinking better of it. "Forget it. Tell him to make an appointment like everyone else."  
  
"No can do, sis," a familiar male voice said. Jessie looked up in horror as her stepbrother Eric Tramer pushed past Clarice and sauntered into Jessie's office.  
  
He looked around briefly at the leather furniture and book-lined redwood shelves. "Nice set up you got here, sis."  
  
Jessie rose to her feet. "I am not your 'sis'. I am nothing to you, Eric, so just leave. I have nothing to say to you."  
  
"I would oblige, Jess, but I just can't. You see, I'm in a bit of a spot of trouble ..."  
  
"Aren't you always?" Jessie spat. "Now get the heck out or I'll call security!"  
  
Eric smirked. "Fine, sis. I'll be back really soon though."  
  
Then he turned and sauntered out, leaving Jessie and her assistant staring after his retreating back. Jessie's hands shook in anger and she turned to look at Clarice. "You can return to your station, Clarice, and please make sure that idiotic pig can't come back here."  
  
"Will do, Ms. Spano," Clarice said and turned and walked out of the office, shutting the door behind her as Jessie fumed.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
"Dr. Morris, there's a six-year-old patient with a banged up knee in exam room two who could use your attention," Chief of Staff Miles Grey said, breaking Kelly out of her reverie as she jotted what could only be described as doodles on a patient file at the hub. "So go and attend ..."  
  
Kelly nodded, shoving a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear, embarrassed at having been caught slacking off. "Oh sorry, Dr. Grey. I guess I just have some things on my mind ..."  
  
"Obviously, Morris, now go," the gruff man said and Kelly started to walk forward before turning back to face her boss for a moment.  
  
"It's actually ... Kapowski again," she said.  
  
"Then you might want to get a new nametag," Miles say, clearly not appreciating being challenged in any form. He passed her the patient's chart and she tucked it under her arm as she looked down at the name tag. Sure enough it read "Kelly Morris, MD" with a lot of other initials trailing after it. She sighed and hurried forward to the exam room. She ripped off her nametag and pocketed in it in her lab coat before opening the door.  
  
"Hello, my name is Kelly Mo-" she caught herself -"Kapowski," she edited and looked up. Into a pair of startling familiar aqua orbs.  
  
"Doctor Lasky?" She asked. He nodded, a piece of his still shaggy light brown hair falling over his eyes.  
  
"Tis I," he said with a smile. "You're a doctor now, huh?"  
  
"Yep," She replied. "A pediatrician. Which reminds me why I came in here ..." Kelly said with a blush on her face as she noticed the little boy sitting beside Jeremiah on the exam table.  
  
"What's your name?" She asked the boy, noting the bloody, torn denim jeans he wore.  
  
"Joshua," he answered. "I fell off my bike."  
  
"Oh ouch," Kelly said. "Well I promise to fix you right up."  
  
"Does my uncle have to leave?"  
  
Kelly glanced at Jeremiah. "Uncle?"  
  
"Yep. I was watching Joshua for my sister today and she's going to kill me ..."  
  
"Accidents happen," Kelly said and looked back at the little boy. "And no, he doesn't have to leave ... Okay, Joshua, let's fix you right up."  
  
XoXoXo  
  
_Paris, France_  
  
"LISA!" Giselle DeBarge bellowed, causing Lisa Turtle to immediately sigh and then jump out of her seat where she had been comparing fabric samples. If the fabric was even a shade too light or too dark, Giselle would have a fit.  
  
Lisa hated working for Giselle but she was the best in the business. To know her, was to know everyone important and Lisa figured one day she would be steady enough on her feet to launch her own line. She had intended to do so right after she got out of college, but a lot of other crap had happened that stalled those plans big-time. Things she didn't often like to think about. Or at all...  
  
Lisa straightened her blue, satin dress and hurried into Giselle's huge office which overlooked one of the Parisian rivers. It was a beautiful view and Lisa was instantly envious once again that Giselle, who was barely five years Lisa's senior, had all of this to herself. She also happened to be a royal witch of the first order.  
  
"What can I help you with this time, Giselle?" Lisa asked, chaffing at the idea of having to yet again pretend to like or even tolerate her tyrannical boss.  
  
"I need you to run across town and pick up some more swatches from the distributor," Giselle said with a flip of her jet black hair. "I don't like the ones he sent this time; they just don't look ... _magnifique."  
_  
"I'd love to do that for you," Lisa lied with the brightest smile she could muster all the while thinking that she had just been over to their main distributor's office this morning and would have to go back again. And at this hour of the day, finding a taxi would be a nightmare.  
  
"Well don't just stand there, Lisa, _grouille-toi!"_  
  
"I am going to," Lisa muttered and stalked out of her boss's office. She picked up her Italian-leather purse off her confiningly small desk and marched out into the cool Parisian night.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
"Ohmigod, my ankles, they're HUGGGGGE!" Alex Tabor screeched from the bedroom.  
  
A.C. Slater walked into the room he shared with his fiancée as he struggled with his suit tie. He looked at her ankles. They were as slender and smooth as they had been when he first met her in college. "Alex, they are not big," he said, rolling his eyes in spite of himself.  
  
"Are you kidding, A.C.? They're swollen! They're ... they're elephant-sized!" Alex cried, always one for the dramatic. "I'm a whale!" Immediately tears flooded her big hazel eyes and Slater started over to her, but then stopped. As much as he cared about Alex, sometimes her theatrics even killed him. They had only been living together for a month and she was driving him a bit crazy. Actually, more than a bit.  
  
"Honey," Slater said. "Don't we have a play to get to?"  
  
"Yes, yes, we do. Its opening night. I'm the STAR and yet I can't go."  
  
Slater stopped fiddling with his tie. "What?" He demanded.  
  
"I auditioned for Our Town when I still had a figure, AC. If they see me looking like this, I will be laughed right off of the stage."  
  
"Okay, once and for all, your ankles aren't huge and neither are you. You worked really hard to score the audition for this play and I'm not going to let you miss it because of your vanity."  
  
"Vanity?" Alex sniffed. "I'm not the one who does stomach crunches in front of a full-length mirror like, five times a day."  
  
"Hey, it's part of the job," Slater said defensively. "I have to be in shape. I own a chain of gyms. If I start looking like Mr. Potato Head, I'll lose business real fast."  
  
"Are you saying _I_ look like Mr. Potato Head?"  
  
"No!" Slater said. "Now can we just go? You're already running late for dress rehearsal."  
  
"I know, I know," Alex said mournfully. "It's just ... I'm two months pregnant, AC. I am not sure I have the acting thing in me right now. You know the bug. Except for the one that makes me puke up breakfast every morning."  
  
"Morning sickness," Slater said. "It happens to the best of pregnant women."  
  
"Says you, the man. Who does the impregnating and reaps none of the consequences."  
  
"I have to put up with your whining don't I?" Slater snapped out and realized immediately he should have kept his mouth shut.  
  
Alex stomped her foot and screamed at him, "So that's what you think of me, huh? That I'm a big fat meanie whiner? Fine! Just fine!" She hurried to the bathroom door and slammed it closed, turning the lock and refusing to open it no matter how much he pleaded with her.  
  
Finally, he gave up and flopped down onto the bed they shared and just let a stream of decidedly wicked curses.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
****_Present time ..._  
  
Screech began to dial his cell phone while he watched his friend, his pal, his confidant, his mentor, looking almost peacefully asleep in his hospital bed. It was a deceptive sleep though as Screech knew his friend was very ill.  
  
"Gee, Mr. Belding, you need to wake up," he said. "C'mon, wake up and start yelling at me for my total lack of competence or something."  
  
But Richard Belding didn't stir and Screech pressed in the first number he could think of. _Zack Morris's._


End file.
